Freak (Troyler AU)

Chapter Thirty

*Tyler's POV*

"Tyler, are you paying attention?" I jumped, a guilty blush spreading across my face before I even turned to face my coach. I'd been staring off into the stands, again, running my eyes over the growing crowd and coming back just as disappointed as before. Sure, Troye had made it very clear he wouldn't be coming, but apparently my heart didn't get the memo.

"No." I said honestly, knowing it was pointless to even attempt a lie at this point. I turned slowly, sighing nearly as loud as he did when our eyes met.

"Look, Ty, I'm sorry to break it to you but whoever you're expecting probably isn't going to show if they aren't here yet. Now either you can mope and cost us the game, or you can take all your pent up frustration out on the other team and win this game." He said gruffly, though if you really knew him, like I did after the last three years on his team, you could hear the underlying sympathetic tones to his voice. Everyone knew what it was like to get stood up, even strict football coaches. I guess I couldn't call it being stood up, he'd been blatantly clear with me he wasn't coming, but I don't know. It just felt a lot more final to look into the stands and not find him there. "So? What's it gonna be, Ty?"

"I'll get my head in the game, sir." I mumbled awkwardly, giving him a curt nod and wandering the short distance back to the bench. I grabbed the vitamin drink, chugging some of it and ignoring the weird glances I was getting from Caspar and Joey further down the bench. They were probably talking shit again and were worried I'd heard them, not necessarily a new aspect of our friendship. I took a deep breath, knowing it would only be a matter of seconds until the whistle blew and we were all asked to assume our positions. I was not looking forward to this, wishing I was less responsible and could have blown the whole thing off to go sit in the hottub with a half-naked Troye. Oh well, hopefully there'll be other chances for me to see him half-naked, or fully naked, I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to seeing him in any amount of clothing, or lack of clothing. I groaned inwardly, realizing I'd already ruined my promise to keep my head in the game. It's not my fault the game didn't have a cute butt, pretty eyes, and an adorable laugh, maybe if it did I'd think about it a bit more.

After that I managed to do pretty good, concentrating at least enough to react to other people's moves, just maybe not enough to execute as many of my own as usual. I was beginning to worry I'd taken the coach's words a lot more seriously than he'd meant them though, quite literally taking out my frustration as I plowed through the players on the opposite team. There was one in particular, that had been annoying me all night. He kept giving me this knowing smirk, one I often got when I was in public and accidentally acted overly flamboyant. It was basically the 'I know you're gay' smirk, something used by both people that wanted to beat you up and people the wanted to beat you up in an entirely different sense of the word, if you catch my drift. The worst part was, I couldn't tell which one he meant. I genuinely couldn't tell if he was angry with me or wanted to get into my pants, but either way I was not here for it. I tried to make this clear in an array of different techniques; avoiding him, being extra rough with him, and simply raising my middle finger at him when all else seemed to fail. I immediately regretted this, my eyes going wide as he changed courses suddenly and started straight toward me. I tensed, watching as he lumbered toward me with a predatory glare.

"W-What do you want?" I asked, trying to sound a lot bigger than I felt. I failed, obviously, considering the fact I'd decided to develop a stutter right at that very moment. He just grinned, obviously very aware of all the people shouting random things at us as he began to circle me. I moved as well, trying to keep a distance between us without looking wimpy. 

"Does the your team know you're gay? Do you watch them in the showers after practice?" He spat, the hate laced in with his tone making it clear he was most definitely not looking for a hook up. Surprisingly, I wasn't that disappointed by this new-found information.